OL Ch 17

Chapter 17

As soon as Hayun finished speaking, he ran towards the pile where Kim Deukcheol was buried. As Hayun moved, Kim Deukcheol also started to stir. Mookyeong immediately concentrated his power on the ground. The debris and broken fragments of the road rose, targeting another Kim Deukcheol.

‘I must find… the bracelet.’

This thought was all-consuming. In his mind, he could only see Seo Iju’s face and the trembling bracelet from the intercom screen.

Hayun pushed the floating debris towards the door. Beneath the pile lay the battered body of Kim Deukcheol. Quickly, he retrieved the bracelet and secured it around his wrist. To evade Kim Deukcheol charging at him, Hayun opened a nearby door and stepped inside. As he took his first steps, the charms on the bracelet jingled loudly.

“….!”

It wasn’t the usual path he took; it felt unfamiliar. Hayun quickly exited towards the nearest exit. Fortunately, Mookyeong wasn’t far away.

‘The disadvantage is Kim Deukcheol being nearby.’

At that moment, there was a loud explosion, and Mookyeong shouted, “Kim Hayun, run!”

Reflexively, Hayun looked up at the sound of yelling. Above his head, a massive monster fell through a broken passageway.

“….!”

Hayun cursed while simultaneously opening one door. The falling monster was torn apart by the gap between dimensions. It let out a final scream before expiring, but the problem wasn’t resolved yet. The shredded remains of the monster’s body cascaded down like waves.

Hayun swiftly opened the door right in front of his face.

“Ugh!”

Before he could enter himself, the wave of dismembered bodies pushed him through the door. Even after emerging from it, he tumbled uncontrollably due to the momentum, eventually stopping only when he collided with an air conditioner unit outside. The impact on his dislocated shoulder caused darkness to cloud his vision and made it hard for him to breathe.

“Ackkk!” Clutching his shoulder, Hayun curled up into a ball. He barely managed to suppress a groan as he waited for the pain to subside. Once he could breathe more comfortably, he cautiously sat upright. Removing his filthy gas mask, he tossed it aside and took a deep breath.

The bright sun indicated how much time had passed. Judging by the accumulated dust on the ground, this place hadn’t seen rain in ages. Hayun looked up at the sky. There was no trace of the massive black gate that once dominated it.

‘Where am I?’

He found himself on top of a multi-story commercial building. There were outdoor air conditioning units, a storage area doubling as a boiler room, and clotheslines filled with freshly washed laundry drying under the sun.

Peering down, he saw people bustling about to start their day. Trucks loaded with goods drove by, and a taxi entered the alleyway. Despite being ordinary scenes from everyday life, it felt incredibly surreal, making him wonder if this was all just an illusion.

Just then, Hayun spotted someone turning on a TV inside a nearby building across the street. He crouched behind the rooftop railing while surreptitiously observing the television screen.

The person kept changing channels, but every station broadcasted breaking news updates.

[Ah, damn it. Nothing but crappy news ruining the morning.]

The TV owner eventually gave up on changing channels. The news was fixed across all stations, but there wasn’t any information Hayun sought. It seemed like evacuations were prioritized over assessing the situation inside the gate. There was also no confirmation whether support had arrived yet, likely due to the lack of situational awareness within the gate.

Footage from someone caught inside the gate kept replaying. Unlike the black door that Hayun saw, it appeared as a swirling mass of dark clouds in the video. Something seemed to be constantly moving within its depths. Just then, he heard rustling behind him.

Hayun quickly closed the door and spun around. Heightening his senses, he retrieved a self-defense weapon from his bag. If it was a human, it would stun them momentarily; if it was a monster, it might briefly distract it.

As he cautiously scanned his surroundings, he noticed traces he hadn’t seen earlier amidst his frantic tumble.

‘Blood… and footprints.’

When he inspected the traces, there was only one likely location for his suspicions.

‘The boiler room.’

It was situated near the storage unit. There was an exit with a locked door, and next to it was another entrance leading directly to the boiler room. Dried garlic cloves and miscellaneous items were piled up inside, while on the floor lay a small paint canister that had been knocked over. On the nearby wall, there was a smudge left by what appeared to be a bloodied cloth.

Someone injured must have collided with the wall. The situation felt eerily familiar. Hayun, remaining vigilant, cautiously entered the room.

As soon as he stood at the doorway, he noticed a piece of clothing trapped under the door.

“…..”

A hot sensation welled up in his chest. Fighting back tears, he managed to open his mouth.

“Teacher.”

Scraaatch.

He could hear gasping breaths alongside the sound of something scratching against the thin door. Then, a familiar voice flowed out:

“…Hayun-ah?”

With just that one word calling his name, the tears he barely held back started to pour forth.

“Teacher, Teacher… U-Uncle, uncle… h-he…!” His voice broke amidst the sobs, making it difficult to speak properly. Hayun began hiccuping uncontrollably. Despite knowing he needed to compose himself, his emotions took over first. On the other side of the door, there were brief sounds of stifled weeping before they subsided.

“Heuuu…”

Tears streamed down and pooled at his chin. However, he couldn’t cry any longer; Hayun had to return to Mookyeong. The boiler room appeared much narrower than expected from the outside. Perhaps due to the presence of the boiler itself, even Seo Iju struggled to squeeze inside.

“This wedding anniversary, we decided to go to the West Sea… but now it won’t happen.”

Seo Iju slowly exhaled. As she breathed out, blood gushed from her abdomen. Hayun alternated between looking at Seo Iju’s face and her stomach wound. Today, both Seo Iju and Baek Jinha looked exceptionally pale.

“On our anniversary… I didn’t want to wake up early. We planned to rise leisurely, have breakfast, take a walk, and watch the sunset together. Actually, it didn’t matter if it wasn’t by the sea. We just wanted a peaceful day together, away from Mookyeong and you. The two of us always had the best moments alone. But…”

Hayun took out an emergency kit from his bag and applied pressure to Seo Iju’s abdomen. With one arm missing, her movements were not smooth. Despite being difficult enough already, Hayun told Seo Iju not to speak further. However, Seo Iju shook her head. She continued calmly, but tears kept streaming down her eyes.

“We underestimated Kim Deukcheol too much. He didn’t run away alone. No, he didn’t need to run away.”

“Teacher.”

Seo Iju placed her index finger on her lips, indicating that he should be quiet.

“That guy is skilled at making puppets. It is funny that he even made his own puppet. We don’t know where his true body is, but creating a puppet requires certain materials.”

Hayun recalled Kim Deukcheol’s graying hair. She roughly guessed what he had consumed. It must’ve been his own life force.

“But he couldn’t replicate it exactly. Instead, he made sure people perceived them as identical.”

It was seamless indeed. Hayun nodded at Seo Iju’s explanation.

“The anti-government group served as his primary source of funding. However, capturing just one wasn’t enough. As with any skill, practice makes perfect when creating these puppets. Although sharing experimental data could be risky, that man had unwavering confidence in his abilities.”

Seo Iju’s body trembled uncontrollably; she was nearing her physical limit.

“As his experiments progressed, there was something specific he wanted to verify. So, so…”

Struggling to steady her labored breathing, Seo Iju appeared pale and almost greenish from lack of blood flow.

“He created the key to a forbidden door himself and opened it to witness its effects. Right in the heart of Seoul… and right before my eyes.”

However, the key to the door wasn’t completed yet; it was close but lacking some components. If Kim Deukcheol had captured someone who willingly gave up their life, it would’ve been finished. However, this person escaped and took away some materials, leading her turn to arrive next.

As soon as Hayun heard Seo Iju’s explanation, he recalled the individual involved.

‘Mun Taegang.’

It was a familiar name, hinting at some connection, but he couldn’t quite remember the specifics.

“That crazy bastard. So he approached me asking to open the door. He planned to capture me, complete the key, transform me into his puppet, and use me to unlock it. The insane fool created the key but didn’t know how to use it.”

Seo Iju took deep breaths repeatedly. Her blue face was covered with cold sweat. She put down the gun she was holding and reached behind her waist. Taking out a small sharp dagger, she regulated her breathing before continuing, “However, even if they couldn’t open the door, they could knock on it. And what is sleeping inside will try to come out itself. But, but!” Seo Iju started sobbing before forcing herself to laugh. “That crazy bastard thought too highly of humans. Did he really think I could open such a door?”

Unaware that Kim Deukcheol had already figured this out, Seo Iju cursed him as foolish for revealing everything upon seeing her.

“Teacher.”

“They believed that by enhancing the abilities of doorkeepers, they could open and close the doors of labyrinths. That’s why they wanted to create the ultimate doorkeeper. Ah, damn it. It is too hard.”

Seo Iju paused before bursting out laughing. “The reason our names remain on the doors when we create shortcuts is because we open, clear, and then close them again. In other words, to close a door leading somewhere we’ve never been before, we must first open it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Hayun shook his head. Seo Iju’s explanation seemed comprehensible yet difficult to grasp fully. Seeing Hayun tear up and sniffle, Seo Iju clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

“That’s why geniuses can be frustrating. They expect everything to work effortlessly, so they struggle to understand setbacks. And stop crying too much. Now, even your teacher can’t wipe away your tears.”

In response, Hayun merely sniffed harder.

“If it cannot be opened, it cannot be closed. If the door to the labyrinth opens on its own, then we dare not close it. Remember that.”

Seo Iju, who had mentioned there would be another test later, gave a hollow laugh again.

“Hayun-ah.”

“…..”

“Open and close the door before it’s too late.”

“What…”

“You found the key.”

“….!”

At some point, Seo Iju had grabbed her gun and now pointed it at Hayun. She looked at Hayun as if gauging something, then blinked with a weary expression. Pulling the trigger, no bullet emerged.

Click, click. Only the sound of an empty chamber was heard. With a self-deprecating smile, she acknowledged that she couldn’t afford to distinguish between reality and illusion anymore.

“…Please take care of Mookyeong. All he needs is you. I hope both of you find happiness. And although I wanted to do this myself, I can’t anymore.”

Seo Iju placed the dagger in Hayun’s hand and gently tapped her own eyes. With that final gesture, Seo Iju’s eyelids fluttered shut, unable to open again. Struggling for breath, she mustered all her remaining strength to speak:

“Complete the key.”

It felt like everything inside him was draining away. Darkness engulfed his vision. He couldn’t believe the reality unfolding before his eyes. Hayun shook Seo Iju desperately, despite knowing it might not be right, as panic rendered him incapable of thinking clearly.

“Teacher.” His voice cracked amidst sobs, tears or sweat streaming down his face indistinguishably.

Seo Iju did not respond; her body merely swayed with each shake from Hayun.